


if you can hear me pray

by Cookie_Queen



Series: Dasey's Freakin' Week 2021 [1]
Category: Life with Derek
Genre: Dollop of Dasey Freak Week 2021, F/M, Graphic Description, Inspired by Music, No Beta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:49:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookie_Queen/pseuds/Cookie_Queen
Summary: Casey would do anything to rub off that sick sonuvabitch smug smirk plastered on his face.Day 1 DoD Freak Week EntryPrompt:Sunday: Five Days A Week And Twice On Sunday by Grand Am / River by Bishop
Relationships: Casey McDonald/Derek Venturi
Series: Dasey's Freakin' Week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203758
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17
Collections: Dollop of Dasey Freak Week 2021





	if you can hear me pray

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy Y'all,
> 
> I treated Freak Week as flash prompts -- gave myself about 2 hours, a prompt, and principle to write!  
> I hope you may judge kindly due to the short nature of the work!

Casey wished it took more. A fight, a toothy text exchange, a screaming match outside the car on the freeway—no, for the crack in years of unresolved sexual tension was when Derek rolled his eyes to something Casey mentioned in passing during a family get together in the city.

Casey would do anything to rub off that sick sonuvabitch smug smirk plastered on his face.

So, in the dark of the night much later, after everyone had returned to their respective homes, Casey paced around the front of his apartment door, hoping she would have made different decisions, until the door swung open.

“Dear god Casey, what is it?” Derek boomed into the hallway, dressed in only a pair sleep shorts. His immaculately built chest and impressive abs were open for everyone to see, and Casey decided to pretend it was just the heat of the summer night invading her body, softly wandering, making her hot and bothered, making her thighs clench, and speeding up her heart beat.

“You, you rolled your eyes at me—” She tried to enter the apartment, but an arm flew out. Her eyes traced down his hand, the well-defined bicep, down the lines of his shoulder, and rested on his face, vexed with a furrowed brow.

“I’m not going to let you in over that. Try again.” Derek ran his hand through his hair, and Casey bit her lip. _What was she doing here?_

“Uh, I’m—” Casey tried, but Derek did it again. The self-assured eye-roll again—it made her blood boil. _Did he think she was so small? So incapable? So unnecessary?_

Rage, anger, fury—there wasn’t language that defined the frustration that she felt at the idea, of all people dismissing her proper and righteous indignation, Derek Venturi couldn’t just leave her and her thoughts alone.

Her hand reached into his hair, yanking him to her level, pulling his lips to her.

“Don’t fucking do that,” She whispered, and then crashed their lips together. It was harsh and uncalled for, she knew it, but it was what she needed in that moment. She pressed harder, pulling his lip between her teeth to bite while her hands yanked at his hair. He stumbled backward, and she followed him into the apartment.

Casey swung her arm at the door, clumsily shutting it, while Derek finally got the message, his arms thrusted into her skirt to pull their bodies next to each other. She grabbed his jaw, scratching at his scruff, hoping it might irritate him enough to perhaps stop this nonsense, but instead he opened his mouth wider for her to further the assault into his mouth. He fought back, their tongues clashing for dominance.

Casey’s hand scrapped down his shoulder, down his chest, nails finding whatever they could latch on, and Derek whimpered, but allowed her, his own hands scaling up and down her thighs, massaging roughly.

“You’re crazy Casey,” Derek groaned, yanking his mouth to her neck to bite there, but Casey pushed him off, and he clattered against the wall. She was so pissed off, unable to think straight. The resentment made her body hotter, and all she could think about was dominating all sense of who Derek was, starting with pulling off her skirt, leaving her in a top and panties.

“Chauvinistic pig,” She shoved him down, until he was sitting on the floor, and she sat on top of him. “Jerkwad, how fucking dare you call me crazy?” Whatever was going on with Casey’s amplifying volume, it was working. Derek was furious. “Do you fucking know what I have to put up? DO you?” Derek’s hands grabbed her thighs, pulling them flush together.

They both groaned, and Casey had a conscious thought—Casey McDonald was sitting on Derek Venturi’s dick, in the middle of the night in her panties. She had a choice: they could dust themselves off, say some less than original insults to each other, she could go home, and they could pretend that nothing ever happened.

“What the fuck Case?” He spit out, his eyes dark and filled with something she had never seen.

She pulled him forward, kissing him, just as aggressively, angrily, she needed him. She slouched forward, and her hips, and her panties rubbed against him, already at full attention. He whimpered again. The need coursing through Casey’s veins stoked higher and stronger than she ever could have dreamed of—Derek’s occasional appearance in those dreams left her so bothered and deeply disturbed, she’d pretend they didn’t exist. But now that the feeling was flowing through her was untenable, from the tips of her fingers to rest deep between her legs. It was sex with Derek, and she was excited.

His hands tore off her panties, while she pulled down his shorts just enough to pull out his length. They gave each other a look, and Casey barely could read what he was asking her, but she nodded, shoving his shoulder back into the wall, pulling her hips back to line them up.

“Hurry up,” His fingers squeezed her hips.

“Derek, shut up,” Quietly, she sunk down, her face flushing red hot. They made eye contact, and the hard lines, aggression, and darkness reflected back, and they battled against each other.

And the biting, rocking, and the fighting—up, down, she no longer could tell. She struggled to stay on top, her hips attempting to piston in and out, but Derek was reckless, pushing her down to grind into her, hard. The sounds escaping her mouth and the space between them were filthy and she couldn’t stop wanting to devour him. He felt sturdy, alert, _there_ —she moaned into his mouth and he panted. She pushed to flip them again, and he groaned, his hands bruising her hips.

When venom reached a breaking point, Casey bit his shoulder so she wouldn’t scream, and Derek’s fist pounded the ground. They rolled over, exhausted, facing the ceiling. Casey refused to look over.

“Again.” She demanded.

**Author's Note:**

> ....is my freak week submissions story lite?
> 
> I'll never tell.
> 
> xoxo cookz


End file.
